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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600954">Scattered Petals</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/vityamins/pseuds/vityamins'>vityamins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A flower most sweet [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(sorry), Again, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Christophe gives good advice, Courtship, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Omega Katsuki Yuuri, Smut, Try not to get motion sick from all the POV changes, Viktor is Thirsty, Yuuri is oblivious, Yuuri is thirsty, dw they're getting there</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:28:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25600954</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/vityamins/pseuds/vityamins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuuri isn't being courted. He isn't.</p><p>Except... He might be.</p><p>But no matter what he is gifted, there's something more he wants from Viktor.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A flower most sweet [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855510</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>322</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Scattered Petals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO LEFT KUDOS AND COMMENTS!<br/>I love you all. This took much longer than expected, but rest assured that I have a full series kind of planned out. What started off as a couple of fics kinda spiralled into a few fics, but I hope you'll like the extra content!</p><p>I'm also planning on doing some writing for YOI's Omegaverse Week, so keep an eye out for that :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Despite Yuuri's disbelief, he met with Earl Viktor Nikiforov at a further four parties in half as many months. At all four they had danced together; and four times the Earl had come to pay him a visit the following day, as polite manner dictated.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, Yuuri was beginning to think something other than polite manner was motivating the alpha. It would make sense, he thought, since Earl Nikiforov was not attending the London season. The man was first acquainting himself with his recently inherited estate, in the wake of his late father’s death. Since Yuuri could afford only one season, he had elected to wait until the following year to make his debut. At the very least it would allow him another year’s wear out of his less fashionable dresses. But, unfashionable or not, it left Yuuri in the position of being one of the few attractive prospects left in the area. The omega was far from vain, but it was difficult to suggest otherwise when his closest competition were all widows older than Yuuri’s mother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yes, that could be the only explanation for the Earl’s interest. And besides, they were neighbours. Frequent meetings were to be expected. Yuuri was not fool enough to believe that Nikiforov would ever propose marriage.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And as the days grew longer and parties grew fewer, in favour of the London scene, the young man reasoned that he would see very little of the silver-haired noble.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor Nikiforov, who was blissfully unaware of the omega’s private reasoning, quite naturally ignored all of this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-o-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“VIKTOR! I expected this of you when you were seventeen, but we are both too old for this now!” Yakov looked as though he was about to explode, red as a cherry and shaking his fist at his nephew’s infuriating grin, “You WILL go over the estate books with me TODAY. Correct management is the DUTY of-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Earl’s calm laugh interrupted him as the much younger man used his arms to neatly herd his irate uncle out of the drawing room and into the hall, much to the amusement of the man’s guest, Lord Giacommetti. “Now, now Yakov, I can assure you that they’ll be completed in a perfectly timely manner-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“WILL THEY </span>
  <em>
    <span>HELL</span>
  </em>
  <span> VITYA-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I will suggest that you rest yourself in your room; you look as though you are about to have a fit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I do, Vitya, I will PERSONALLY inform the Holy Ghost that my demise was entirely your fault,” The old man had lowered his fist, with his whole body shaking instead, “and that Christophe was no help at all in the matter. Whatever hare-brained scheme the two of you are plotting ends now. You must learn some responsibility!” with that, he stormed off. Viktor shut the door and threw himself dramatically over a plush green sofa across from his best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Responsibility’? Didn’t he spend all of his money on an opera dancer?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe the word is ‘married’, Chris.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Swiss man chuckled and sipped his tea. “So you wanted advice on a gift, mon amie?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Viktor straightened up, tapping his finger against his lips thoughtfully, “To begin with. I’ve called around many times, and we’ve had the most lovely conversations, Chris, but he doesn’t seem to realise that I intend to court him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you are fully aware that you could simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>ask </span>
  </em>
  <span>him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> I am,” Viktor whined, “but… I am afraid that might frighten him off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Christophe sighed and placed his teacup back in its saucer with a small clink. “Well then. You’re in luck, because I have something that may help you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Viktor could enquire further, a sudden, enraged shout came from the other side of the house. Christophe raised his eyebrows at his friend, before asking, “The estate’s books?” The Earl nodded, “Read through, completed, double checked. Oh, and placed under my uncle’s pillow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Back to the matter at hand, old friend. You can help me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe so,” said the young lord, “while you’ve been abusing your uncle, I’ve been perusing this season’s beauties. And they’re-” he waved his hand in distaste, “boring. Whoever came up with the idea that every omega should look and act and behave the same should really be hanged. But then I bumped into dear Mr Chulanont.” The way he said it indicated that Viktor should react. Instead, the Russian just stared. He was never very good with names.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For fucks’ sake Viktor - Mr Katsuki’s best friend! He debuted this summer. Charming thing; I’ve had some excellent conversations with him. And when he’s a little too deep in his cups, he talks of his friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Viktor’s eyes lit up. He had been wondering where the other alpha’s story had been going; it was usually a bedroom or cupboard or carriage or some other small enclosed space. But this actually might prove to be useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you have an idea of what I might buy Mr. Katsuki?” Viktor asked eagerly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not well off-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That hardly matters to m-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I thought it did, you dolt, I would find other friends. Now stop interrupting me.” The blond alpha stretched his legs before swinging them up onto the sofa, looking for all the world as if he were some courtesan draped over a chaise longue. “He would be insulted by anything too extravagant. I know you, Viktor. Don’t go throwing priceless jewels and pieces of art at him. You can do that after you are wed. Get him flowers, or gifts he can </span>
  <em>
    <span>use</span>
  </em>
  <span>, without appearing like handouts. Buy him fine silk and say you thought the colour would suit, or that you would enjoy seeing him in it. Or buy him something needed for a specific activity you might join him in. Or…” Christophe could see his friend’s brain going a mile a minute, and he smirked mischievously, “you could always rip his clothes off him and insist on replacing them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The poor Earl’s mind screeched to a halt upon hearing ‘rip his clothes off’. But rather than laughing, or throwing a jibe at the Swiss alpha, he turned beet red. Christophe didn’t miss it, and sat up, smirking. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That isn’t like you, darling. What’s the matter? Are you imagining it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor smiled and brushed him off, switching the topic of conversation. The pair spoke no more of Yuuri Katsuki that day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Little did Lord Giacommetti know that Viktor had been doing a little more than </span>
  <em>
    <span>imagining</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>-o-</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>About a week later a parcel arrived at the Okukawa estate, addressed to Yuuri Katsuki. Eight full yards of the most gorgeous deep blue silk, along with two dozen blue roses. Yuuri was agog. Kenjirou, his ladies maid, was ecstatic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Minako insisted that the silk be sent to the modiste at once, and Yuuri be fitted for a new ball gown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But would it not be better saved for my season?” the omega had protested. Minako looked at him oddly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense. I think it will be of much better use now. Besides, the gentleman will be eager to see you in his gift, will he not? You wouldn’t want to appear rude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The prospect of being rude effectively shut Yuuri up, and any other protests he might have had remained unsaid as he allowed himself to be measured and cooed over by both his aunt and his dressmaker.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>-o-</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Once he had finished congratulating himself on finding Yuuri the perfect gift, Viktor realised that he had made quite a significant mistake. The Earl had been tutored by the very best scholars from a young age, and considered himself somewhat skilled at mathematics, but he had apparently completely forgotten to factor in his impatience when giving gifts to his beloved.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He lay in a bed that had recently begun to feel a Bit Too Big, staring at the pages of a book he was supposed to be reading. His valet tended to the dying fire, politely ignoring his master’s moping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long would you say it would take for a modiste to make up a ball gown?” Viktor asked, eyes not starting from the page.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir,” his faithful valet turned around, expression a blank mask, “I should say for this time of year, a country modiste might require a few weeks at most.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Viktor cringed at how audible his own answering sigh was. He was however, grateful at the man’s tact in not referring to the fact that Yuuri’s less impressive status would mean that his dress would not be made a priority. He once again thanked whatever deity that might be listening that valets travelled with their employers; he did not know his new country estate staff well enough to expect them to be as steadfastly loyal as those at his London townhouse. The new staff were doing exceptionally well though, he thought. The alpha was sure that he’d made it painfully obvious that he was head over heels for Mr. Katsuki, and yet that fact did not yet seem to have made its way out of his manor’s walls. In a way it was frustrating; H would have to do more for Yuuri to recognise his courtship. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he couldn't wait a few weeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His valet was almost at the door, having finished his duties. He paused as Viktor asked, “It would take a few days for a pair of omega’s riding boots to be made up, would it not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I imagine sir, that your regular cobbler could do it in one, with another day allowed for the post.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excellent. I’d like to gift a fine pair of them to Mr. Katsuki.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see to it, sir.” his valet replied, closing the heavy oak door behind him. And although his face had been as blank and professional as ever, Viktor swore he could hear a smile in the man’s voice.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>-o-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three nights later, a bright half moon lit up the inky sky. Yuuri Katsuki knew this because, rather than sleeping as he ought, he lay awake trying not to think about the growing slickness between his thighs. He felt as if he were being courted, and for the first time wondered if he had been wrong about Earl Nikiforov’s intentions. His inner omega had preened when the second gift had arrived; a fine pair of rich leather riding boots, exquisite enough for the Queen himself. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Better yet, the Earl had delivered the gift in person, taking tea with Yuuri and his aunt in the drawing room. He talked with such animation, and smiled so sweetly at Yuuri that he swore he felt himself falling deeply for the other man. By this point the omega had committed the Russian man’s evergreen and roses scent to memory, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>craved</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Perhaps that is how he could tell that the boots had been hand wrapped in linen by the Earl, despite the prevailing leather smell. Or why a more heavily scented portion of the linen lining had disappeared into Yuuri’s sleeve shortly before dinner. It lay under his pillow, where his grasping fingers could easily toy with the soft fabric.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>During the Earl’s visit, Yuuri might have imagined the alpha’s glances towards him as admiring. But hours later alone in bed, it was easy to replace them with a look of desire. He had planned to escape to his clearing early the next morning, if only to try and sate the burning ache he felt when thinking of his alpha. But the scented linen served to tempt him even from beneath the layers of bedding, and with the memory of Viktor’s visit still fresh in his mind, Yuuri found himself unable to resist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled the cloth from beneath his pillow, curling it around his hand and bringing it up to his face. The japanese man’s lips fell open as he drew in the Earl’s intoxicating scent. A fresh flood of slick wet his thighs, and surely his nightgown. His reddened cocklet, already half-erect, filled as his hand reached for the base, gently working over the shaft before focusing on the wet head. Surely he could keep quiet enough - just this once.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Closing his eyes, he imagined Earl Nikiforov sitting across from him, just as he had done that day, but with no chaperone in sight. In Yuuri’s mind’s eye, the alpha devoured him with just a look; ice blue eyes not trailing, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>etching</span>
  </em>
  <span> a path down his body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The omega shivered, despite being overly warm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Earl would ravish him before even touching him, telling Yuuri of all he wanted to do to him without even opening his mouth. Silently wait for permission before striding across to the omega and pinning him against the upholstery. Because however Yuuri had imagined Viktor Nikiforov, whether under him or over him or </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the alpha </span>
  <em>
    <span>always</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted the younger man’s explicit consent. Wanted him to writhe and plead and acknowledge that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>and wanted desperately; that Viktor was not the instigator. That Yuuri was aware of every filthy and depraved thing that the other man planned to do to him, do </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, and begged for it wholeheartedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Viktor would want for him to throw away the guise of a pure and ignorant omega virgin and show himself to be a whore for his alpha’s use alone. A creature built only for pleasure and taking cock.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yuuri blindly reached for his dripping cunt at the thought, frantically thrusting two fingers into the rosy heat. He imagined Viktor’s long, silver hair draping over him, hiding a predatory smile for the rest of the world as he ripped the shorter man’s bodice open to lave his tongue over a perked nipple, the clothing nothing but an obstacle. Viktor’s strong arms would push him back onto the sofa sharply, throwing the omega’s stockinged legs over his shoulders as he kneels to the floor and kisses down Yuuri’s body, pausing only to tease his most sensitive parts until the Japanese man begs. Yuuri whimpered as he thought of Viktor’s cupid’s bow pursing, blowing cool air onto his needy cunt while locking eyes with his prey. He thought of the other man planting open - mouthed kisses against the scent glands on his inner thighs, sucking marks into them and scenting him thoroughly before finally tonguing at his clit. With his alpha’s scent filling his nose, he imagined how it might deepen with arousal as the younger man pulled at his silver hair, drawing him in further. How Viktor might palm his own cock, desperate to bury himself inside the omega. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even through the sound of blood pumping in his ears, Yuuri realised that he was becoming too loud. His moans and gasps were quickly building alongside his impending orgasm. Legs twisting in his sheets, Yuuri finger-fucked himself with an urgency most reserved for their heat. A scream built in his throat. The last shred of his sanity shoved the linen into his mouth as not to be heard, freeing his other hand to fly to his swollen clit. Evergreen and roses filled his senses, and the omega’s vision whited out. Yuuri’s orgasm rocked through him as his teeth grit around the fabric.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Once Yuuri had cleaned up enough to sleep, hoping any stains would be dutifully ignored by the maid, he remembered the other reason for the Earl’s visit. The younger man had jumped at his invitation to go riding the following day, under the premise of trying out the new boots. He doubted he’d be able to look Viktor in the eye without remembering his own vivid lurid fantasies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Despite that thought, he was relaxed enough to fall easily into a sound sleep, and dreamt of ice blue eyes.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments give me life!<br/>If this fic seems kind of filler-y, it's because it started life as the first half of a bigger single fic. The next installment is definitely in the works, so thank you so much to everyone who gives kudos and comments, you all inspired this to become a full on Project.<br/>I hope each and every one of you is doing well. Thank you for reading!</p><p>Oh and I'm still kicking about on Tumblr @vityamins and I love to hear from y'all :)<br/>(Should I get Twitter? are people on Twitter?)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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